Christmas Wonders

by Robyn Buttars

Genres: Holiday books

Synopsis

“Have a wonder-filled Christmas,” people in Luke’s new hometown greet one another as Christmas approaches. With no memory of a Christmas celebration, ten-year-old Luke feels excluded from the town’s tradition, until he finds his deceased mother’s nativity set. Touched by Mary’s protecting embrace of the Baby Jesus, Luke experiences his first Christmas Wonder. His discovery is the catalyst for a search that leads to a soul-changing season for neighbors as Luke finds his connection to heavenly love. 

Robyn Buttars, author of the best-selling and award winning novella Christmas Rose, weaves an unforgettable holiday story for the entire family. 

Release date: October 1, 2015

Publisher: Familius

Print pages: 136

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

Cradled in his mother’s arms, Luke nestled against her body as the steady rhythm of her unlabored breathing lulled him into a reservoir of serenity. Rocking from side to side, she began to hum. He was falling into a peaceful twilight—almost sleep. But Luke, unwilling to rest with her near, forced himself to stir from the tender cocoon so he could gaze into her face.

She touched his cheek. Her fingers lingered near his lips as though waiting for them to curl up in recognition. Then she smiled. It was not the tentative response of her fragile, weary body that still glowed in his mind’s eye. This smile was not the one he remembered. No longer earthbound, it flamed with the soul-blazing brilliance of an angel.

“Luke.” Someone shook him.

“Mother!” Luke cried. He refused to wake up—not yet! “Don’t go.” His helpless plea echoed off bare walls as she faded into the recesses of his memory.

“It’s just a dream.” Dad’s brusque voice sliced through Luke. “Come on. You need to get dressed.”

Luke turned away from the demand. With eyes closed, he attempted to fade back into the dream, to spend another blessed moment with her.

“Get up.” Dad pulled him to the edge of the bed. “Now!”

His mother was gone.

Luke sat up and shifted his legs to the floor. His shoulders sagged as he reached down to retrieve the pants crumpled at the side of the bed.

“You can’t wear those.” Dad stepped into the hall. With a flick of his hand, he motioned to the row of boxes. “Find some clean clothes for school.”

Luke jumped to his feet. “School? What do you mean?”

Without answering, Dad walked through the doorway that joined the apartment to the cobbler shop. He didn’t bother to shut the door behind him.

Luke trudged from his room. Last night their new neighbor said something about school, but he hadn’t connected it with his reality. He opened the first box. An Evans Bank calendar covered the kitchen utensils. Always here to help our neighbors was printed in fancy, red lettering below the 1965. He pushed the cardboard flaps closed and slowly opened the next box. If he dawdled long enough, maybe Dad would forget about him, or at least forget about school. Everything stable had crumbled in his life. How could he face the newness of his existence?

“Luke, hurry up!” Dad’s voice pierced the silence.

He opened two more boxes and gave them a cursory glance. In the fifth box, he found a wrinkled shirt and jeans.

“Luuuuuke.”

Luke ran back to the side of his bed, grabbed the socks off the floor, yanked them on, and slipped his feet into his heavy brown boots. With laces untied, he stumbled toward the cobbler shop.

“Be on your way, now,” Dad said.

“Umm . . . where is it?”

“We passed it on the way in last night.” Dad nodded in the direction they had come. “It’s a red building, just a couple of blocks.”

Luke didn’t move.

“Well?” Dad said, turning to face him.

“Won’t you come with me?” Luke pulled at the loose thread on his sleeve.

“I have work to do.” Dad shook his head and turned back to the cobbler’s bench.

Luke walked to the door, pulled it open, and stepped out into the late September morning. He glanced both ways down the street. The town was quiet. There were just a few cars parked on the narrow road and only two people walking on the sidewalk.

Across the street, colored lights on Nan’s Diner blinked off and on randomly. They looked out of place in the bright sun. Luke stepped to the edge of the curb and waited for a car to pass before crossing. In the display window of Nan’s Diner was a tray of cinnamon rolls slathered with white frosting. Luke recalled Nan’s comment about her “award winning” rolls.

Last night, after driving all day to get to the city, he and Dad were unloading the pickup when Nan crossed the street with a sack in her hand. She waved at Luke when she caught his eye. He turned away, pretending he didn’t see her as he lugged a heavy box to the door of the shop.

She followed him inside. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” she called in a cheerful voice.

Luke flipped around and sniffed the air like a hungry puppy.

“I’m Nan from across the street. And you are?”

“Ma’am.” Dad stepped toward her. “I’m Jeffrey, and this is Luke.”

“Well, it’s sure good to meet you both. Merv’s arthritis is really getting to him, so we need a good cobbler around—”

“I just repair boots, ma’am,” Dad interjected. “Someone had to at the ranch, but . . .” He glanced at the row of women’s shoes.

“Don’t worry about those. Merv can tell you how to do the easy stuff.” Nan set her sack on the counter. “I brought you some leftovers from my diner—something to fill your stomachs while you get settled.”

“Mighty obliged.” Dad’s eyes rested on the package.

“Wish I could stay and help, but I’m a man short on the cleanup crew tonight.” She crossed the room, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.

If Nan had left then Dad probably wouldn’t have thought about school, but she turned around just outside the door and poked her head back in. Her clear green eyes surveyed Luke from head to toe. “How old are you?”

Luke put his shoulders back and lifted his head. “Nine.”

“Fourth grade.” She looked at Dad. “School starts at 8:30.” With a quick smile in Luke’s direction, she said, “Stop by the diner and I’ll give you one of my prizewinning cinnamon rolls.”

Dad opened her package before she made it to the street. He pulled out two take-home boxes filled with heaps of potatoes flooded with deep brown gravy, stacks of roast beef, and piles of green beans.





Plump, juicy raisins broke through the frosting on one of the trays of cinnamon rolls. Luke’s stomach growled; he hadn’t thought to grab something for breakfast. He put his hand on the door to the diner before pulling it back. Longingly, Luke looked at the cinnamon rolls, but he didn’t go inside. Instead he turned away, forcing his feet to continue down the sidewalk. At the corner, he veered left in a reverse of their entrance into town.

A woman waved to him from inside the window of the drugstore. He nodded, and then brought his head back into a straight line with the cement, hoping he was headed in the right direction. Dad hadn’t mentioned the school when they drove into the city. That wasn’t surprising because Dad hadn’t said anything at all until they pulled up in front of the cobbler shop. With a sigh, he had taken his cap off and trailed his fingers through his sandy hair.

“This is it.” He rested his head on the steering wheel for one brief moment, and then plopped the cap back on his head and opened the door of the pickup.

A yellow bus passed Luke on the street and someone yelled, “Hey boy.”

Luke watched the bus until it turned off the road. When he reached the turnoff, he stopped and stared at the two-story red brick building. Although it didn’t look menacing, it didn’t look inviting either. Boys and girls strolled toward the building and a group of little boys chased a big boy holding a brown, paper bag above his he. . .